


Only from the heart can you touch the sky

by Vlindervin



Category: The Get Down (TV)
Genre: Boys In Love, Fluff, M/M, basically the paint scene but longer and more detailed, i feel like Dizz was there at least a whole day so basically, idk what to tag this, that day
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-11
Updated: 2017-04-11
Packaged: 2018-10-17 15:41:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,324
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10597095
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vlindervin/pseuds/Vlindervin
Summary: There were walls around Dizzee. Around his mind, his heart, shielding the world from looking inside and discovering all the different dimensions inside his chest. But the thing about walls is that they don’t only shield the judging gaze of the world, they keep the light from entering too. Dizzee’s walls explode and woah, the light is blinding, illuminating everything and making it shine like fresh snow on the rooftops when the clouds decide to part for a while.Basically I love these two so much and needed a way to express my feelings after part 2.





	

‘You must be really good friends, huh?’, Boo asks and it takes almost everything in Dizzee not to tell him. Because Thor isn’t just a really good friend. He’s so much more than that and it’s the more part that makes Dizzee the happiest he’s been in a long time – maybe ever –, the part he wants to share, but simultaneously the part he can’t talk about. 

Boo Boo’s right. They used to be so close. But things change and Boo might not be a little kid anymore, but that might only make things worse. Because kids don’t care if people are different; they simply accept. The judging comes when they grow up.

In another universe, where the sky is as green as the trees, where it’s okay for Dizzee to kiss other boys, where Rumi actually gets to the opera, he introduces Thor to all his brothers, and his sister, and his parents and he tells Boo Boo that Thor is not just a really good friend.

But in this universe, he only nods and that’s that.

*

With Thor’s lips on his, a flower grows and grows in Dizzee’s chest. The multi-colored petals stretch out and reach all the way to his brain, to his toes, bringing color to his insides again. It’s the same feeling he gets when the rusty and old trains turn into bursting masterpieces, telling a story, all by his hands. No matter how bad or wrong people deem it to be, it’s something beautiful. 

It’s freedom.

Dizzee can’t stop smiling and grinning when he looks into Thor’s eyes. He’s missed him. When Dizzee saw him at the gig, it felt like being able to breathe normally again after weeks of suffocating, like the hole in his heart got filled. 

It must’ve been worse for Thor, who couldn’t do the thing he loves to push away and try to forget the ache in his chest. 

They hug, the familiar scent engulfing Dizzee, he breathes it in, he doesn’t want to let go. Maybe ever. 

Here in this room, it’s just the two of them and the colors of their mind, they’re free. It’s just them. Simply Rumi and Thor. Simply Dizzee and Thor. Their hearts and souls are laid bare for the other to see and explore, the way no one’s ever gotten to do. No holding back, no hiding certain parts of themselves. Just them, all of them. Like birds in the sky, doing bird things. 

Aliens in the universe, doing alien things.

They can paint, get high, kiss, love.

In the back of his mind Dizzee thinks how sad it is that the freest they ever get to be, is between these four walls. 

Thor kisses him again and the flower grows and grows, keeps growing.  
*  
In this room, they can create anything they want. Dizzee paints planets, constellations, everything in between this world and his imagination. Thor does too. They move around each other in a dance of paint, magic, extraterrestrial forces and the occasional kiss shared between them. 

He could do this forever. His home, _Dizzee’s_ home – because Rumi’s home is somewhere else entirely – is fine. He loves his family, but sometimes it gets exhausting to pretend, to be so misunderstood. His family already thinks he’s a fucking weirdo, but they have no idea. No idea. Of all the things inside of Dizzee that are even weirder. 

When he’s at home, it’s like his wings are broken and he tries to fly, but something’s holding him back. He manages to go to a certain height, but he can’t try too hard because that only hurts. And when he’s here, with Thor, as Rumi or Dizzee or neither of them, he can reach the goddamn sky. 

Because Thor, Thor gets it. Dizzee doesn’t even have to explain most of the time; it really does feel like they’re able to read minds sometimes.

 _Just two psychic boys_.

It’s still true.

On the other side of the room, Thor falls down on the mattress. He’s looking at Dizzee _that way._ Like the sight of Dizzee doing what he loves, is the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen. It’s the look that takes Dizzee breath away, cuts off every other thought from entering his head. Like nothing else matters as long as Thor keeps looking at him like that. 

And he can’t have that right now. He’s always been one to get sucked into his art, focusing at one hundred percent. It’s different now. 

He looks at him, his eyes catching Thor’s. A little smile manages to sneak out. Thor makes a movement with his head, indicating he wants Dizzee to join him on the mattress.

‘Rumi’s calling to me. I can’t just ignore him when he’s asking me to bring him to life’, he says.

All Thor does is shrug and lick his lips.

Dizzee inhales once, deep, turns back to his work, the brush elevated in the air. Then he shakes his head and sets it aside.

He joins Thor, who’s still lying down, and plants his hands on either side of his head. There’s a victorious glint in his eyes, shining brighter than the city lights.

‘I won’, he whispers.

Dizzee shuts him up with a kiss. The touch sends a spark through his body, rescuing him from a long life in darkness. No matter how many times they kiss, the feeling doesn’t change. He hopes it never does.  
Thor laughs, a sound more powerful than storm and thunder, but softer than a raindrop swiftly landing on a rose petal. It’s more beautiful than anything Dizzee’s ever heard.

‘What?’, Dizz asks.

‘You’re amazing.’

He doesn’t know what to do with that, so he kisses him again. It’s the easiest way of answering he knows. They’re psychic after all.

Thor understands.

*

They go up the roof and lie next to each other, watching the night sky lit up by stars. It reminds Dizzee of the view of Manhattan they have. Two bright worlds he can’t reach. Rumi’s already disappearing to go touch the stars. If only Dizzee could follow him. He’d create that alternate universe he told Boo about, right there, between the stars.

The only connection between Thor and him is one of their hands linked, attaching the two bodies, making them as one. Thor’s hand is slightly bigger than Dizzee’s, the specks of yellow and red, orange the only thing their skin has in common.

A falling star; make a wish. Dizzee imagines he might be able to catch it, if only he tries hard enough. 

_Only from the heart can you touch the sky._

Dizzee turns his head, detaches his eyes from the lights above and focuses on another pair instead. 

He could catch it, touch the sky if he wanted. His heart is right here, after all. But he doesn’t want to. If there’s one thing that’s supposed to be free, it’s the stars. 

‘You ever been in love?’, Dizzee asks then, a question he feels as though Thor’s asked him before, but he can’t remember when or how.

‘Yeah,’ Thor nods, turning his head to look at Dizzee too.

‘Yeah?’

‘Still am.’ Dizzee rolls closer and kisses him, under the watchful eyes of the moon looking out for them. He pulls back, looks at Thor, twirls one of his blonde locks of hair around his fingers, smiles.

*

‘Red Devil Avocado, where are you?’ Sometimes Dizzee wonders if maybe he named the colors in another life, because they’re exactly how he sees them.

‘I’m right here.’ And it’s Thor who has it. Of course. 

_His_ Thor. Can he say than now, even if it’s strictly between these walls? That’s what it feels like anyway. Like they’re each other’s. Thor being his, feels as natural as teaching Boo how to spray or like running as fast as he can and the wind making his eyes water. Like that’s the way it should be. Like that’s the way God intended it and created the world. 

And being Thor’s feels just as good. The thought of his heart – a part of his heart – belonging to that beautiful boy made of moonlight and stardust, lights up Dizzee’s skin and makes him want to scream and shout and jump all the way to the clouds. 

He’s almost certain Thor feels the same way, or at least something like it. 

‘I’m painting’, he says, because it’s true and because he knows exactly what Thor is suggesting, but he won’t fall for it. He got distracted once, not again. 

So he paints. And Thor joins him, fills his pallet with the Red Devil Avocado. He tells Dizzee bombing is dangerous and that he shouldn’t do it anymore. But bombing has almost always been one of the only things that allowed him to free his thoughts, to make a statement. It’s an integral part of who he is and he can’t just give that up. Rumi still exists inside his head – inside _him_ , everywhere – but without graffiti the alien in the top hat would never come alive anymore and the opera would never be attended. Like Ra Ra once said: he can’t be a rebel if he doesn’t rebel. And he _is_ a rebel. Even his dad realized that.

‘Viva la revolucion, remember?’

‘I remember.’  
And it’s as if that one sentence translated all his thoughts and projected them into Thor’s mind, because he accepts it. He gives him his Red Devil Avocado and smiles.

Almost the exact shade of Thor’s eyes. Dizzee leaves a trace on Thor’s cheek, leaves behind a mark, a piece of himself because why the fuck not?

Thor keeps looking at him so Dizzee kisses him. So emerged in the soft lips and silky, golden hair, he doesn’t notice the matching trace of green Thor paints on his forehead until he breaks the kiss and feels the cold liquid and notices the stolen brush in Thor’s hand. They share a laugh and a breath of joy. Then it turns into a fight – who is able to leave the most marks? Then it’s simply two boys, functioning on another wavelength than everyone else, in love with each other and art and each other’s art, throwing paint around, smearing it on the two bodies and the walls and everything else, pretending it’s the whole world and they’re teaching the people how to turn off the black and white setting in their eyes and how to perceive, receive, all the colors, the real essence, the soul of life instead.

They’re a spectacle of giggles, laughs, kisses covered in paint, dancing around the room. Existing the way they were supposed to.

Dizzee feels like he’s got magic inside him and coming out of his fingertips, that he’s got music in his head and although he doesn’t recognize the song, he somehow knows it’s his favorite. Dancing is no choice when you’re favorite song starts playing so he gets lost in the music. 

Rumi’s soaring overhead, through the room along all the other physical manifestations of the stories on the walls. And somehow, he suddenly becomes Rumi. Rumi is not only inside him, he’s not just inside Rumi; they’re one. 

Dizzee realizes that sometimes you just gotta jump. Maybe you’ll fall and that’ll be that. But maybe you jump high enough, far enough to discover worlds you never knew existed. Like this one. Where everyone’s free and no one’s afraid.

‘I’m an alien in a top hat!’

There were walls around Dizzee. Around his mind, his heart, shielding the world from looking inside and discovering all the different dimensions inside his chest. But the thing about walls is that they don’t only shield the judging gaze of the world, they keep the light from entering too. Dizzee’s walls explode and woah, the light is blinding, illuminating everything and making it shine like fresh snow on the rooftops when the clouds decide to part for a while. 

‘I see lights in the darkness!’

Thor is filling the room with laughter as he looks at Dizzee dancing around the room and screaming things that don’t make sense, but simultaneously hit the truth.  
Somewhere along the way, Thor loses his shirt and Dizzee follows the sculpted planes of his chest down, down, stops there, first with his fingers and then his paint brush, tracing the path and coloring it blue, imagines his touch staying there forever. 

Dizzee feels higher than he ever did on drugs, goes higher with every touch, every kiss. He’s so high he’s convinced he’s going to fly away any second now. 

Two aliens soaring through the night, out of reach to anyone on earth. Like angels. 

His face is covered and that’s how he feels inside.

He loves it. He loves this. He loves Thor – he _loves_ Thor – he loves, he’s free, he’s alive, alive, alive.

This is how he want to feel all the time, how everyone deserves to feel at least once in their lives. Because this is what’s living all about. This is the feeling. He arrived at the opera, he stretches his arms up and up and up, a little bit higher, he reaches through the ceiling, all the way past the stars, touches the moon. Takes it down with him and gives it to Thor.

‘I’m ready to die now! And to see my first opera.’

And it’s the truth. Once you’ve felt what it’s like to be alive, _really_ alive, then you’re ready to go. Because that, right there, the magic he just made, how big and powerful and good he felt, that’s why we live. It’s the one thing we have to pursue in life and then we’re ready to die. 

_Set him free_ , Thor said about Rumi. 

_Set me free_ , his sister sings and now he realizes that that might be the song playing in his head.

 _I’m free_ , Dizzee thinks, before he falls down on the mattress with the boy he loves.

**Author's Note:**

> If you were like: 'The fuck is she going on about?', you're not alone. I wrote this and I don't know what this is  
> The title and quote I borrowed from Rumi (the poet, not the alien)  
> Catch me on Tumblr if you want at flydizzee--bidizzee for my tgd sideblog. Or Vlindervin7 for my main  
> Thanks for reading!


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